Like Batman? No Wolverine
by melchaz
Summary: Sam has been injured in a hunt, so Dean gives him some pain meds. I guess they work a little too well, cos Sam is loopy. I promise stupidity, nothing more. No slash, just Sam being a nuisance. Plus an appearance from Cas. T for swearing.


The bed creaked loudly under the weight of Sam Winchester.

But he just laughed, stupidly. And perhaps if this were a less serious situation, then Dean would have laughed too. Instead, he frowned at his younger brother and slapped the giant hand away that was eagerly poking the fresh wound on Sam's body. Sam frowned at his now pink hand then looked up back up at Dean with glazed eyes.

'That wasn't very nice.'

'Yeah well, nice isn't my middle name.'

Dean heaved himself off the bed, now that he had Sam in a sitting position instead of bouncing off the walls like a hyperactive child that had found Willy Wonka's factory. Sam tilted his head.

'I knew that. I knew it wasn't your middle name, Dean. That would be stupid.' He sounded like he was a kid again. An overgrown kid with really bad issues and pain killers. Lots of pain killers.

'Yeah, yeah. Sit tight, Sammy, quit moving around.'

Sam sat still but his fingers were tapping on his knees. He then switched to sitting cross legged and fiddling with his laces. Dean should have given Sam the lower dosage but how was he to know? He should have just called a favour in from Cas...

No. He could handle this on his own. That was the Winchester way.

Sam had taken to picking at the wound on his chest again so Dean leant over, grabbing Sam roughly by the chin.

'Oi! What did I jus-'

Oh god. Sam was tearing up. Dean's voice faltered to nothing, his menace quickly turning to panic as Sam's eyes went from plain old sad to friggin' kicked puppy with extra floppy ears. Waterworks, especially Sam's, was not a good situation for Dean.

'S-Sammy, sorry, look please-'

'Dean... why... why do you always yell at me, Dean?' Oh crap now he was doing the lip thing. His bottom lip shook, his chin scrunching, and his eyes grew even wider.

Dean cursed under his breath and sat on the bed, rubbing Sam's shoulder.

'Shh... Shh. It's okay,' Dean's gruff voice turned to low and nurturing as Sam whimpered at almost being yelled at. His face suddenly smoothed out as he looked up at Dean.

'Wow.'

'What?' Dean looked at him, confused at the sudden emotion change.

'You're breath is really bad, Dean.'

'Jeez, thanks. Maybe because I just ate a cheeseburger with extra onions and mayo.'

'Onions have layers.'

'Yeah. They do,' Dean decided that he was gonna have to just put up with drugged up Sam. He knew that if he tried any authority, it would go one of two ways. Sam would cry and Dean would have to put up with that chick-flick crap and end up at square one trying to comfort him, or Sam would throw a tantrum, and when a six foot five guy with enough man power to stop a bus throws a tantrum, you do not get in the way. You get out of there and pray he gives you a head start.

Dean would let Sam throw a tantrum over the tears any day, but today Sam was injured and Dean wasn't going to take that chance.

So, chick-flick comforting crap it was.

'I remember watching that movie Dean.'

'What movie?'

'Shrek. And the second one. Not the third one.'

'You actually watched them?'

'Jess and I watched the first one,' Sam's face changed for a split second, before he continued on, 'Oh my god.'

'...What?' Dean was hesitant. He wouldn't be able to handle any Jess-tears, not now...

'The three musketeers.'

'Say what?'

Sam looked at Dean then lay against his shoulder, like he used to do when they were in the backseat of the impala when Sam was tired, years and years ago.

'In the second one, there's Shrek, Donkey and the cat. With the boots.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. You're... Wait. I don't wanna be donkey,' Sam huffed, 'but I guess that you're Shrek, I'm Donkey and Cas is Puss in Boots.'

'What? Why does Cas get to be the Cat?' Dean was genuinely interested, not that he'd ever admit it.

'Because he's like the silent ninja type... And have you seen that cat when he makes that face?'

Sam imitated the Puss in Boots cute face, pouting his lip out and making his eyes round.

'Cas doesn't make that face.'

'Yeah he does. You just don't see it.'

'I'm sure he doesn't make that face.'

'That's because he does it to you when you're not looking,' Sam said, smiling coyly to himself. Dean pulled a face.

'You're being a dickhead.'

'Am not,' Sam said in a whiny voice, crossing his arms over his chest, then regretting it as he made a noise at the wound.

'Uh oh. Dean I'm bleeding.'

'I know, don't touch it,' Dean warned, as if warning a child. Sam looked at him and nodded seriously.

'You're really... brave. Sometimes.'

'Brave?' Dean scoffed.

'Yeah. Like a superhero.'

'Like Batman?' Dean asked, smirking.

'No... Maybe like Wolverine.'

'_Wolverine_? I do _not_ have hair like that. And I don't smoke.'

Sam looked up at Dean from his shoulder and held a finger to Dean's lips. Dean resisted the urge to smack Sam's hand away.

'Shhh. Someone's here,' Sam said, rolling his eyes towards the opposite wall. Dean looked up and his body jolted in fright. There was indeed someone there. A very solemn looking someone in a trench coat, standing in the corner of the room.

'Cas?' Dean hadn't even heard him flutter in.

'Hello Dean. Sam,' Cas nodded. Sam snorted loudly and went into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. Castiel looked disturbed and looked to Dean.

'Have I done something humorous?'

'Yep! Cas... tee... elle. Cas. Casino. Casablanca. Casa Erotica,' Sam started laughing again, laying back on the bed. Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean.

'He... well obviously he's injured. I gave him some meds to help him out but I think he's had a bit of a reaction...'

'Well _obviously_ Dean's lying,' Sam said, staring at the ceiling before Cas could reply.

'I had noticed; when I heard my name in the same sentence as a donkey and a cat,' Cas replied to Dean and ignoring Sam. He tilted his head in confusion at Sam who was staring at the bland ceiling with his mouth slack and one hand hanging off the bed, while the other was on Dean's leg. Dean rolled his eyes.

'You're the cat. Puss in Boots,' Sam said, quietly.

'I do not wear boots.'

'You should. Make you look more bad ass,' Sam sat up too fast and blinked rapidly, leaning on Dean again.

'Woah, slow down buddy,' Dean put his hand around Sam's shoulder to keep him steady.

'I bet I could run faster than you Dean. You have little legs,' Sam squeezed Dean's thigh and Dean flinched, 'get out of it!'

Sam covered a hand over his mouth, eyes alight, 'Ooo, Deany's getting mad. You gonna turn green, Dean? Be the Hulk? Wait... if you're green, then you'll really be Shrek! He has short legs-'

Castiel had reached over in a flash and tapped Sam on the head. Sam's body fell slack and lying back on the bed, snoring within seconds, his arms and hair sprawled out. Dean watched for a moment as Sam's breathing steadied to a slow rhythm.

'Is he always that childish when on medication?' Asked Cas, still regarding Sam as if he had never seen anything like him. Dean got a bit defensive.

'He's allowed to act childish. He was never a kid. None of us were,' Dean frowned at Cas, then glanced down at Sam, whose face was peaceful. It was comforting.

'...I apologize. I thought he was getting on your nerves,' said Cas and he almost sounded like he meant it.

'Yeah well,' Dean started in a gruff voice, looking back up at Cas. His heart almost melted.

'Cas? ...How much of that conversation were you listening to?' Dean asked in a quiet voice.

But Castiel continued to stare at him through wide, innocent, sparkling blue eyes. His bottom lip was pouted and plump and his black hair was dishevelled, making him look like he was a puppy that had just got kicked out of the house and into the pouring rain. Dean tried to retaliate, but his retort was lost as he stared at the angel, giving him the cute as fuck Puss in Boots look that would make Chuck Norris shed tears.


End file.
